


your voice is like a song on the breeze

by BloodRaven55



Category: RWBY
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Abuse, One Shot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, in the form of some cute beacon bees, it's set sometime during volume 1 or around then anyway, just a hint of adam’s abuse anyway, literally just some
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-18 13:03:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21661270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodRaven55/pseuds/BloodRaven55
Summary: “You'd... actually want to help me?” Blake repeated, tone laced with confusion.“Sure I would.” Yang gave her most winning smile, and it seemed to work, though Blake still looked a little unsure.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 16
Kudos: 213





	your voice is like a song on the breeze

**Author's Note:**

> This came from thoughts I had about Blake's upbringing and how different it was to Yang's, and it kind of spiralled from there.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

“I can't believe Professor Port would do this to me!” Weiss complained as they made their way back into their dorm room. “I thought I'd get at least an eighty in his class for sure.” Ruby glanced awkwardly at her partner, and Weiss' expression visibly softened slightly. “I am very impressed with your grade, though, Ruby. You deserved to beat me here.”

Ruby offered a tentative smile, and Yang lost focus on her teammates' conversation now that she knew it wasn't going to descend into an argument, choosing to redirect her attention to her own partner instead. Blake was studying the sheet of paper in her hand—their midterm grades for the winter semester—with a thoughtful look on her face, and as Yang watched Blake's teeth worried at her bottom lip in a classic nervous tick, something almost like disappointment on her features.

Yang hadn't got to know Blake as well as she'd like in the month and a half or so they'd been partners so far, but she'd discerned enough to be able to make a few guesses. Blake was quiet and reserved, but could also be incredibly snarky and outspoken when it came to specific topics, which led Yang to think that it was less down to shyness and more due to a lack of desire for too much contact with other people for whatever reason.

Combined with the way that Blake seemed uncomfortable with being touched in even the most casual of manners, Yang suspected that her partner hadn't had the easiest of lives, but beyond that she really had no clue, which made it hard for her to know how to approach conversations— or just interactions in general. But maybe this was a chance for them to get just a little closer. After all, school work had to be a safe topic, right?

“You look like you're thinking pretty hard over there,” she commented, and Blake looked up to meet her eyes.

“A little, I guess,” Blake said, and for a moment Yang thought she was just going to leave it there, but to her delight her partner continued speaking. “Just— didn't do quite as well as I'd hoped.”

“Oh?” Yang couldn't help being curious. She'd simply assumed that Blake was the type to excel academically because of how many books she read, but maybe that had been a foolish conclusion to jump to.

“I really couldn't care less about a sixty in Plant Science,” Blake went on, “but I expected better than a seventy in Oobleck's class.”

Yang felt a rush of emotions at that— sympathy because Blake clearly felt a little let down by the news, but also a tiny thrill as she realised that this might actually be something she could help Blake with. If her partner even wanted her help, that is. But she'd scored a very respectable eighty in that class herself, so she figured it couldn't hurt to offer. After all, the worst that could happen was just that Blake would say no.

“Can I see?” she asked, gesturing to the paper that Blake was still holding. “Only if you don't mind, of course.”

Blake handed it over without any hesitation, and Yang skimmed the grades listed on the page. “I think you're selling yourself short, Blake. These are pretty darn good overall.”

“Really?” Blake looked genuinely taken aback by the compliment, and Yang wished she knew what it was that had taught her partner to react this way. It wasn't hard to see that Blake had a habit of underestimating herself, and it tugged at Yang's heart more than it probably should have.

“Yeah,” Yang assured her, gentle but firm. “If you like I can try and give you a few pointers on Oobleck's stuff, though. I'm sure you'd pick it up and get an even better mark in no time.”

“You'd... actually want to help me?” Blake repeated, tone laced with confusion.

“Sure I would.” Yang gave her most winning smile, and it seemed to work, though Blake still looked a little unsure.

“But what would I do for you in return?”

And then it was Yang's turn to be confused. “Nothing.” She shrugged awkwardly. “I mean, I guess I sort of hoped it could be like— partner bonding, or something. But that was it.” There was a beat of silence, and she finished with a poor attempt at a joke, trying to lighten the mood. “You don't have to buy me dinner or anything, y'know?”

“Okay then,” Blake said, sounding almost faintly amused. “It's a deal, partner. You can help me with my next essay for Oobleck, and I can, uh— I can _not_ buy you dinner.”

This was probably the longest conversation she'd ever had with Blake, and Yang couldn't deny that she was happy her partner seemed to be opening up to her just a fraction. It was also the first time Blake had actually called Yang her partner, and Yang felt her cheeks flush slightly. It didn't help that she could have sworn that there was a tiny but genuine smile on Blake's face too— a sight she immediately wanted to see more often.

 _Gods, get yourself together_ , she chastised herself, but luckily Blake didn't seem to have noticed, and Yang escaped to the bathroom before she embarrassed herself for real.

* * *

“—and it was the humans shoving the Faunus off onto a tiny island to try and keep them quiet that really started all of this. After they'd treated them like dirt for so long they expected them to be happy with just some overcrowded desert totally isolated from the rest of the world— it's insane, and why they began to fight back.”

Blake sat back in her chair with a deep breath as she finished drafting the conclusion of her essay. Yang had pulled up her own chair about an hour ago, and she listened intently as Blake wrapped up her argument. Her partner was a fantastic orator and extremely articulate, but it was obvious that Blake was used to expressing her thoughts through speech—and with a tone that was far more literary than academic—which was holding her back.

Fortunately, Yang had learnt the hard way how to present an essay to make it seem more professional after churning out countless similar assignments during her time at Signal, so she was confident she could give Blake a few pieces of advice that would allow her partner's excellent ideas to reach their full potential. “The content is perfect,” Yang said, “but you just need to phrase it slightly differently in some places. Try something like ‘it was the humans' banishing of the Faunus to Menagerie in a pathetic attempt at appeasement...’ instead at the start, and be a little more specific in your wording— ‘the conflict’ instead of ‘all of this’, ‘it's abhorrent’ instead of ‘it's insane’, and so on. Trust me, a few tiny changes like that will do wonders.”

“Thanks,” Blake said distractedly, already busy scribbling amendments against the final paragraph. “And what about the rest of it? Anything else you noticed?”

_How passionate you are about equality. How impressive you sound when you speak as though you already know where your life is going. How much I like listening to you talk. How the light is catching your hair and—_

Yang glanced away before observing turned into staring, willing her heart to stop beating so fast. She wasn't sure where any of that had come from, but they would all have been truthful answers to Blake's question. That wasn't the kind of help her partner needed right now, though, so Yang shoved the thoughts away and refocused on the task at hand.

“Not much. The only thing I can think of is that it could maybe be structured a tiny bit more effectively.” She stood up and moved behind Blake's chair, leaning over her partner so she could demonstrate what she meant. She pointed to the end of the third paragraph, trying desperately not to dwell on the heady scent of Blake's perfume, suddenly overpowering in such close proximity. “If you move this point to the start of the previous paragraph, it might flow better.”

“You're right,” Blake said after a long moment of consideration, and she added an arrow to mark the change. Then she turned in her seat to face Yang, and Yang was struck by the thought that her partner looked so much softer somehow, bathed in sunlight from the window across the room. “Thank you, Yang. I mean it.”

“You're—” Yang's breath caught in her chest, and she tried again. “You're welcome.” Blake wasn't looking away, and she was too close, the amber of her eyes too pretty— Yang panicked, anxious to diffuse the sudden intimacy that she didn't know what to do with. “That's what friends are for, right?”

Blake looked mildly bemused at the abrupt declaration, but she nodded anyway. “I suppose so. Either way, you helped a lot.” She paused, like she was debating whether to say more. “I, uh— I travelled most of the time when I was younger, so I never exactly got a regular education. I was pretty much homeschooled.”

“Well, that didn't keep you from making it into Beacon,” Yang said. “That's already a huge achievement.”

She stopped herself from asking about why Blake had been on the road so much, sensing that it would be pushing too far too soon. Blake simply looked at her for a few seconds longer and then turned back to the desk to gather her materials. “You know, Yang,” she said as she stood up. “You're much smarter than anyone gives you credit for, and I don't think enough people tell you that.”

Yang blushed furiously, speechless for a good minute, and then she forced herself to respond before her partner left the room. “And you're much smarter than you give yourself credit for. You're going to ace that essay, Blake.”

“We'll see,” Blake conceded with a hint of a smile, and then she was gone, leaving Yang to flop down on her bunk and consider why the merest hint of a serious connection with Blake had her so ridiculously ecstatic.

* * *

Just over a week later they got their graded essays back from Oobleck, and when they got back to the dorm Weiss declared that she'd got an eighty, a satisfactory but not incredible mark by her standards, and Blake simply held up her paper for the others to see, a bold red ninety embellishing the top right corner and a smug smirk on her face to match.

Blake shot her a glance, something warm in her eyes, and Yang felt pride and admiration rising in her chest. It turned to laughter, though, when Weiss' enraged cry of _damn you, Belladonna!_ echoed down the corridor outside as she realised that she'd now been beaten by not one but two of her teammates over the past month.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope it was good! As always any feedback except for non-constructive criticism is not just welcomed but hugely appreciated so comment if you feel like it and I'll see y'all next time :)


End file.
